


My Heart and Yours

by Lavellans (arka_r)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Asexual Solas (Dragon Age), Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, F/M, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arka_r/pseuds/Lavellans
Summary: Kalyana Lavellan rescues an injured apostate from the hand of templars. As a healer, it is only her duty to save him.Updated weekly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by [Revasnaslan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revasnaslan). thank you so much, buddy!

The hunters were quiet as they stalked towards the armored shemlens— _ templars _ , just as Keeper Deshanna said. 

 

This group of templars had been terrorizing the forest for quite some time now, stalking closer and closer to where their Clan was settled. Templars in the woods meant danger for all mages in the Clan—that meant Keeper Deshanna and Yana herself—and so, the Keeper had no choice but to send seven of their best hunters to eliminate the threat. 

 

As a healer, Yana went along too, to make sure all hunters made it back safely to their Clan. She knew the risk—if she was captured by the templars, their Clan would be down a mage. But Yana had insisted, promised that she would be careful, and Keeper Deshanna had reluctantly allowed her to go.

 

The foliage gave them enough cover to hide as they waited, silent and deadly. There were eight of them, against five of the templars. Each hunters carried a bow and a quiver filled with poisoned arrows, and Yana a staff. Each templars carried a sword and a shield that gleamed under the sunlight, just like their armor did.

 

Adri, the leader of the hunters, gave the signal for them to stay. Below, one of the templars dragged something to the center of the camp—or rather, some _ one _ . Yana let out a quiet gasp as the templar sidestepped, allowing her to see the unlucky sap that the templars had caught.

 

Said unlucky sap was an elf. His head was bald and his clothing ragged. His face bore no vallaslin, and for a brief moment, Yana wondered what a city elf was doing so deep in the woods, until she saw the broken staff that the templars threw in front of him. 

 

An apostate, Yana realized, and he was injured.

 

Blood stained his clothes, but the elf seemed to pay little attention to it. Even from this distance, Yana could see the defiant expression the elf had displayed as the templars forced him to his knees. He struggled in their grasp, but one of the templars smote him, causing him to keel over. Pained noises escaped him, like a wounded animal.

 

Yana knew, with great familiarity, what would happen to a mage in the captivity of the templars; they would either be killed, made Tranquil, or dragged to one of their so-called Circles. Yana felt a pang of pity for the apostate.

 

She wanted to help him. She  _ had  _ to help him.

 

Adri seemed to know what she was thinking, and he gave her the subtlest shake of his head. Yana gestured at him in return; that the apostate was one of their People, that the templars would undoubtedly do something terrible to him. However, Adri was undeterred. They came for the templars, and that was that.

 

With a huff, Yana returned her attention back to the templars and the apostate.

 

One of the templars stalked around the apostate, like a hungry predator would stalk its prey. The apostate still glared at the templars, still defiant despite his crouching position. That was until one of the templars unsheathed their sword and pointed it menacingly at the apostate.

 

_ No _ , Yana thought. Not on her watch.

 

With a flick of her wrist, the templar was set aflame as if they were nothing more than a kindling. The remaining templars shouted in surprise, before trying to extinguish the fire and looking around, their swords drawn. 

 

The hunters immediately moved in the confusion. A barrage of arrows flew to finish the rest of the templars. All but one fell to the ground. The last templar, who was still holding the apostate, threw the apostate to the ground before plunging his sword to the apostate's prone body.

 

“NO!!” Yana shouted as she made the air around the templar to explode. The templar's body was thrown back several steps, before it landed on the forest floor, mangled and still.

 

While the hunters ransacked the encampment, Yana fell to her knees by the apostate. He was still breathing, so that was good, but his wound was deep. His blood spilled sluggishly on the forest floor. She had to work fast.

 

“We need to bring him back to our camp”, Yana told Adri, just as she worked her healing spells.

 

“The templars already caught him once. What if he leads them back to our Clan?” Adri argued.

 

“He's dying!” Yana cried out in disbelief.

 

“And that is why we need to leave him! He'll only slow us down!” Adri countered, before his expression softening. “We can give him a swift death, that's the least we can do for him.”

 

“No!” Yana growled. “You will  _ not _ touch him. I can save him.”

 

“Yana…” Adri sighed.

 

“He's one of our People”, Yana hissed. “We're bringing him back to our camp.”

 

Adri was quiet for a moment, before letting out a great sigh. “Fine. But I will tell Keeper Deshanna about it. And you will carry him on your own.”

 

That was good enough for her.

 

Once the hunters were done ransacking the encampment, Yana finished her healing spells, making sure that the apostate would not bleed to death, before casting another spell to make the apostate lighter. The apostate was taller than her, but she was stockier, and she could lift him with relative ease as she hauled him across her shoulders.

 

Together, they began the trek back to the Clan.

 

—

 

“What were you thinking?!” Keeper Deshanna said as soon as Yana returned to the Clan.

 

Yana let out a sigh—she was tired, exhausted, from the healing and the trek back to the Clan, and she did not have time for this. The apostate was dying by the second, and the sooner Yana worked her magic, the higher the chance of the apostate’s survival.

 

“Don’t look at me. I told her you would disagree”, Adri said, hands raised in placating gesture.

 

Useless.

 

“Either I healed him here where it is safe for both of us, or I stayed behind to heal him and risked being discovered by more Templars”, Yana said, her voice stern. “I will not turn my back to those who need me or my expertise. You know this, Keeper.”

 

Keeper Deshanna let out a sigh, before eventually walking away.

 

_ Good enough _ .

 

Yana took the apostate to one of the aravels that was reserved for healing, settling him down on one of the available bedrolls before gathering her supplies. The apostate's wound was so deep and cutting through his stomach. After making sure the spell that stopped the bleeding was still working, Yana focused her attention on repairing the damage to his organs. Occasionally, she would pour various healing potions into his mouth, including blood replenishing potions.

 

The apostate was still and unmoving, his body cold to the touch from all the blood loss; and he was pale, paler than her, paler than most of her Clansfolk, and it made the freckles on his face to stand out. Yana would’ve thought he had passed away if not for his shallow breathing.

 

She didn’t know how long time had passed. The world seemed to narrow down to her and the apostate, as she cast spell upon spell and poured potion upon potion into the apostate’s mouth. Mending his organs took a lot of mana, and by the time the apostate was no longer in danger of dying, her own mana had been severely depleted.

 

Wiping sweat from her brows, Yana decided that it was good enough for a start.

 

Perhaps the next best course of action was to replenish herself, but the floor where she sat looked very enticing. Her limbs were shaking from exertion and she was certain that if she got up, she wouldn’t get very far before she collapsed. This was not the first time she had severely depleted her mana, anyway. Her Clansfolk would understand.

 

With a sigh, she curled into herself, several steps away from the bedroll where the apostate was resting. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep.

 

And dreamt.

 

It was not the first time she walked in the Fade; the feeling was all too familiar as her bare feet touched the forest floor. The forest was different here, the trees were younger and there was no sign of her Clan around. This was a memory, she realized, one that was centuries old.

 

There was a statue of a wolf sitting serenely by the crossroad. Yana recognized it as the same statue  her Clan had passed by several weeks ago, the same statue that depicted the Dread Wolf. Already, Yana felt safer being near it, as she knew that malicious spirits would never gather around it.

 

That was when she noticed the apostate. He walked by and examined his surroundings, before turning to face her. He seemed surprised to see her there, but his expression quickly smoothed into a calm composure.

 

“It is you”, he said, his voice echoing slightly. “The one who saved me.”

 

“You recognized me?” Yana asked, tilting her head.

 

“I felt your magic”, the apostate said. “I was fatally injured, and could do nothing but slip into the Fade as my body collapsed. Then I felt your magic, healing me. For that, I thank you.”

 

Yana didn’t quite know how to answer to such honesty, but she smiled regardless. “Thank me again once you awaken”, she said.

 

“Of course”, the apostate inclined his head, returning her smile. 

 

Yana let out a hum before twirling on her toes. She loved to walk in the Fade, loved to marvel at the ever-changing world around her. Flowers sprouted and bloomed as she walked by, and spirits flitted by harmlessly like butterflies. Trees grew, reaching up for the sky, while lichens grew from its branches and vines crept up its trunks.

 

“It is so odd to meet another Dreamer”, the apostate spoke, breaking the silence.

 

“Isn’t it?” Yana twirled again so she was face-to-face with the apostate. “For years, I thought I was the only one. Nobody could understand this power of mine; even the Keeper advised me to not walk in the Fade so often, lest I would attract malicious spirits. Or demons. Whichever.”

 

She extended her hand and a wispy butterfly landed on her fingers, its wings fluttering. It didn’t stay long, and resumed its flight as it joined the other butterflies. That was when she noticed the strange expression on the apostate’s face.

 

“You are Dalish”, the apostate said. That was not a question.

 

“And you are not”, Yana returned.

 

“Why did you save me? You know you gain nothing saving a wandering apostate such as I”, the apostate asked.

 

“You are injured, and I am a healer”, Yana answered without any hesitation.

 

The apostate said nothing else after that.

 

—

 

She woke to the smell of herbs and incense wafting in the air. 

 

The apostate was still unconscious… or perhaps sleeping, if their encounter in the Fade was any indication. Yana cast a quick spell to check on his wound, and she found that it was healing nicely. It didn’t seem to be infected either. That was good.

 

However, she desperately needed to replenish herself before she could continue; and she knew that he would also need some food in him to help with his recovery, once he awakened.

 

Ducking out of the healing aravel, Yana saw that most of her Clan had already risen. Hunters and foragers had returned from their trip, bringing rams and nugs and various fruits back to the camp. Fire danced in the pits, surrounded by several men and women, and the smell of morning meals cooking wafted in the air.

 

“There she is”, Adri teased. “Finally emerged to greet your fellow Clansfolk?”

 

Yana rolled her eyes, but said nothing as she grabbed a mugful of gingered halla milk, which she downed in several long gulps. 

 

“What’s wrong? Your new lover tire you out?” one of the hunters, Alena, laughed and made exaggerated kissing noises.

 

“Healer-patient confidentiality, my dearest Alena”, Yana smiled sweetly at the huntress. “Now, you should be careful the next time you go hunting. After all, I only heal my lovers and you are not my type at all.”

 

The hunters, including Adri, erupted into laughter, while Alena sulked, her joke backfiring. 

 

With strength slowly seeping into her body, Yana bounced to the food preparation area, humming a random tune. The lady sitting by the firepit handed her a bowlful of rich meat soup. Yana thanked her, before finding one of her friends sitting under a tree.

 

Luthien was sewing something, his tools scattered around him. He was of average height, though rather muscular from doing heavy work around the Clan. His vallaslin was of June.

 

“Hey”, Yana greeted him before taking a seat next to him. Luthien looked up briefly, before moving his tools to give Yana space to sit and eat. “What are you working on?”

 

“Aisa needs a new clothes”, Luthien answered. Aisa was his daughter, who he loved dearly.

 

Yana couldn’t help but chuckle. “She ripped her clothes again?”

 

“From climbing the tree, this time”, Luthien answered with an exasperated fondness.

 

One of her friends, Ithivhen, approached them while she ate. He was a tall and lanky young man, with pale freckled skin and a scar across his nose. His vallaslin was of Mythal, dark green in color and a stark contrast against his skin.

 

“So, I’ve heard from the hunters that you”, he gestured towards Yana. “Brought back another little bird. Except that the bird was an elf.”

 

“And…?” Yana was unsure if he was asking her or simply making a statement.

 

“Well, I want to know if it’s true”, Ithivhen said, awkwardly chuckling. “Please tell me it’s not true. The hunters had to be exaggerating, right? Like that one time they claimed they killed a high dragon?”

 

Yana set her bowl down and sighed. “It is true.”

 

“No. Way”, Ithivhen said in disbelief. “Yana, what were you thinking? Does the Keeper even know?”

 

“I was thinking that the elf was injured and he needed my assistance”, Yana said, tilting her head in confusion. “And yes, Keeper Deshanna knows.”

 

“You cannot be serious!” Ithivhen cried out. “Luthien, you have to tell her that she’s being unreasonable!”

 

“Who is being unreasonable?” a voice came from behind. Yana turned and saw her other friend, Lirien, limping towards her, Luthien, and Ithivhen. “Kalyana, what did you do this time.”

 

“Nothing!” Yana cried out in frustration, just as Ithivhen said, “Yana brought a flat-ear into the Clan.”

 

“You did  _ what?! _ ” Lirien turned sharply to her.

 

“Leave her be”, Luthien said with a sigh, without looking up from his handiwork. “Keeper Deshanna knows, and has no problem with the flat-ear. Why should we?”

 

“Thank you, Luthien”, Yana turned to her friend and smiled. She understood that they might be worried, but still, it frustrated her having to explain her motivation over and over. Couldn’t they see that she only wanted to help?

 

“That’s… true. But still…” Lirien sounded worried.

 

“If you cannot trust me, at least trust the Keeper”, Yana told her. “She allowed me to bring him into our midst, albeit reluctantly. Trust her judgment.”

 

Her friends begrudgingly agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some dialogue are taken from the game

She dreamt about the forest again, about the crossroad where a Fen’Harel statue sat, silent and serene.

 

Demons couldn’t reach her here, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t  _ try _ . Fear was a stubborn thing, and it showed her a vision of broken aravels and battered bodies, arrows sticking out of them, and an armored man shouted victoriously as he lifted his bloodied sword. She could see familiar faces, then; Keeper Deshanna, Lirien, Ithivhen, Luthien, Adri… even the children of her Clan.

 

It was easily her greatest fear.

 

_ This is not real _ , Yana thought, shaking, and she washed it all away, willing away the broken aravels and the bodies. Almost immediately, they were gone, swept away like a cloud of multicolored dust. Then, the sky turned from red to blue, flowers bloomed, and grass sprouted from the darkened soil. The air itself smelled like rain, like spring. 

 

She always loved spring.

 

The apostate walked into view, then, inspecting their surrounding with keen and curious eyes. He wore soft clothes and a bone pendant of some sort hung from his neck—a wolf jawbone, if her guess was correct. His feet were bare and they made no sound as he trod the grass. He looked unharmed, uninjured, so different from his body, which had been lying in the healing aravel for two days now.

 

“Hello”, Yana greeted him, and he turned to face her. This time, he didn’t look surprised to find her here.

 

“Are your dreams always like this?” he asked, and Yana wondered what ‘this’ meant to him.

 

“Sometimes”, she answered, regardless. “When the Clan goes up north, I dream of valleys and mountains instead.”

 

The apostate stared at her, disbelief in his face, before shaking his head. Then, he extended his hand towards her.

 

“Let me show you something different, then”, he said.

 

“Where are we going?” she asked, staring at his long fingers in front of her eyes.

 

“I think it would be better to say  _ when _ are we going”, he answered, with a secretive smile curling on his lips, and Yana found herself reaching for his hand.

 

His hand was bigger than hers, easily encompassing her hand whole, and his skin was a few shades lighter than hers. His touch was gentle and feather-like, as if he was afraid he would break her. When he smiled at her, the laugh lines on his face becoming more prominent, and Yana could feel her cheek heating up as she realized how  _ handsome _ he looked.

 

He waved his free hand elegantly, and immediately, their surroundings shifted. Things grew  _ backwards _ ; flowers unblooming and trees grew shorter, its trunk thinner. Days and nights passed swiftly and seasons changed in backwards; summer first, then spring, then winter, then fall. Yana watched as they went back in time, completely mesmerized, before everything seemed to freeze in time.

 

It was disorienting, for a bit, like the aravel coming into a sudden halt, and it took her a moment to realize where she was. 

 

A battlefield, she realized with dawning horror.

 

There were so much death and destruction around them, blood spilling on the soil so much like pools and rivers, and bodies scattering like leaves on the ground. The sight alone was enough to overwhelm her.

 

And the sound of it… battlecries mingling with the cries of the wounded, swords clanging together, bodies falling to the ground. The healer in her quaked, her hands itching to help, to heal, to save, but it was just a dream, a memory. There was nothing she could do to change it all.

 

She woke up with a jolt, and promptly dashed out of her bedroll to retch by the bushes.

 

— 

 

“I apologize. I did not intend to cause you distress”, the apostate said the next time she dreamt. His eyes were downcast, as if he was hiding guilt. 

 

Yana tapped her finger to her chin, wondering what his intention  _ was _ , before returning, “Apology accepted.”

 

“I should have warned you before taking you to that particular memory”, he said, his voice gentle. His eyes flicked downward once again, before they met with hers. “Was that the first time you saw the memory of a battlefield?”

 

“… yes?” Yana answered rather meekly. “I… did not know you could do that.”

 

“You could too, I suppose”, the apostate said. “Any buildings strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. When you Dream in such places, you may find memories no other living being has ever seen.”

 

“That’s sounds very impressive”, Yana smiled at him. “Although… I suppose I can do without the reenactment of bloody past.”

 

“Of course, every Dreamer is different, just like every mage is different”, the apostate offered diplomatically, inclining his head slightly. “As for me, the thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year old dream? I would not trade it for anything.”

 

When Yana woke up, she headed towards the healing aravel and sat by the apostate’s bedroll, her mind wandering. Was the apostate always traveling alone, visiting ancient ruins and battlefields, just so he could dream in it? Though she couldn’t claim to understand the way a wandering apostate live, it sounded very… lonely.

 

Only then, it occurred to her that she still didn’t know his name.

 

She resolved to ask him the next time she dreamt.

 

—

 

It became a routine, then. In the morning, Yana would prepare for the day. She would do quick exercise upon waking up, before changing her clothes into a fresh ones, and braiding her hair before tucking it inside her cowl. Once she was sufficiently dressed, she would head out in search for breakfast.

 

After breakfast, she would head to the healing aravel to heal the apostate. She was making great progress to heal his wound, but there was still some internal damage that was too stubborn to heal. She also would pour nutritional potions into his mouth—it wouldn’t do to have his body failing due to lack of nourishment before she could heal all of him.

 

As the hours went by, her Clansfolk would come in for various injuries, and she would tend to them until the sun dipped beyond the treeline. Then, after a quick rest, she would head to Keeper Deshanna’s tent and assist her however she could—mostly correspondence with other clans. At night, she would eat with her friends and then try to heal the apostate some more before she went to sleep.

 

Her dreams stayed the same; she would sit on the clearing of a forest hours upon hours. Sometimes demons would flit around her to bother her, and she would shoo them off or ignore them entirely. Sometimes, the apostate would visit her in her dream. One time, Yana gathered her courage and asked about his name.

 

“Solas”, the apostate answered. “My name is Solas.”

 

Solas then would show her less-than-bloody memories. He showed her an ancient city, way before the fall of Arlathan. The forest seemed to meld seamlessly with the city, like there was no separation between nature and elven-made creations. Bizarre looking buildings seemed to be grown from trees, their trunks twisting and weaving in a complicated pattern that reminded her of halla horns, and their branches reaching out to the golden dusky sky above. And they were  _ glittering _ , glimmering in the sunlight, as if each leaves were made out of jewels.

 

Amongst the trees, the People,  _ her _ People, walked freely, free of burden and free of chains. They laughed and danced and used their magic freely.

 

There was, in fact, magic  _ everywhere _ .

 

Even in the dream, Yana could feel it. It seeped through the cracks on the ground and wafted in the air, wild and untamed, and the People could easily pluck from it like low-hanging fruits. Spirits were everywhere too, flitting around amongst the People. No one feared them because magic was as normal as breathing and spirits were as common as grasses.

 

“This is…” Yana breathed out at the sight of the memory. “Breathtaking.”

 

“I am glad you find it beautiful”, Solas returned. “This is but one of many cities in Elvhenan, its name lost to the passage of time.”

 

“There is magic everywhere…” Yana marveled, lifting her hand to gently touch a glowing mote of magic. It dispersed into a thousand smaller pieces upon touching her finger.

 

Already she could feel jealousy blooming in her chest.

 

The next night, he showed her a festival, where Elves dressed in rich and colorful clothings strutted on the street. Some of them seemed to grow feathers out of their skin, making them look like bizarre-looking birds. It was a parade or something, and wherever her eyes looked, everyone was smiling, bright and jubilant. They danced in pair or in groups to the music, which was odd to her ears but somewhat familiar, like a half-forgotten lullaby. 

 

He showed her a ritual of some sort. The city was dark, but lanterns made out of leaves floated in the air, and the light emanating from it did not come from fire, but from magic. Elves dressed in robes and cowls covering their head walked, in their hand a strange ball of light floating. They prayed in unison, their voice reverberating through the air. Their face was strangely bare, without any vallaslin, and Yana couldn’t help but wonder why.

 

Yana adored the dreams to pieces, and she couldn’t help but imagine herself walking on its streets, wearing clothes that was both strange and familiar. She could imagine herself dancing along with the music, carefree and  _ happy _ .

 

When she woke, she felt a pang in his chest, of what their People had lost to the brutality of Humans.

 

“Yana, are you alright?” Lirien asked one time, when Yana was having breakfast under a tree. It was only then she noticed that she had been staring off into the distance. Internally, she shook the image from the memory away from her mind.

 

“I’m alright, Lirien”, she replied, offering a weak smile to her friend. Her Dream-walking with Solas often left her restless upon waking up. She wanted to tell someone about her dreams, about the memories she saw, about the People before their time. But she was… unsure, if her Clansfolk would accept what she saw.

 

Not to mention that she had to explain Solas’ involvement with all this, and she was not keen to have her friends teasing her more than they already did.

 

Only then, Yana could understand the allure of the dreams, when everything was grand and beautiful. She wished she could live in the dream and never to wake up; but she  _ did _ wake up each time, resuming her duties as a healer and chatting with her friends.

 

It was how life was.

 

Yana worried too—she always did, for her patients, but Solas’ case was different. She had sufficiently healed his body, but he showed no sign of that he would wake up soon. She worried what it would do to his damaged body, and even more so, to his mind. She wondered if he was trapped in dreams, and wondered how to get him out if he did. She wondered if what she did to him was not enough to save him. She wondered if death was the only way to save him.

 

One night, she braced herself to finally confront Solas in the Fade.

 

“Why have you not awakened?” she asked, as soon as she found him in the Fade, and he stilled. “I healed your body. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

 

“I am… still very weak”, Solas answered. “Before… before I was captured by the Templars, I performed a difficult spell. It drained me—that is why the Templars managed to catch me.”

 

Yana wondered what kind of spell that could drain him so, but decided not to pry.

 

“Please wake up soon”, she said instead.

 

Something odd flashed in Solas’ eyes, something that Yana couldn’t quite decipher. But he inclined his head and the oddness was gone. “I will try”, was all he said.

 

When she woke up in the morning and headed straight towards the healing aravel, Solas was sitting by the window, his bare torso illuminated by the morning light. He looked thin, his skin ashen, but when he turned his face towards her, he was smiling tiredly.

 

He was finally awake.


	3. Chapter 3

“How are you feeling?” Yana asked, even as she worked her spells to check on Solas’ wound. There was still some lingering damage, even now, and he was still very weak. She doubted he would be strong enough to be back on his feet anytime soon. Not to mention that there was still a lingering danger that his wound would reopen.

 

“Less like death”, Solas replied, his voice raspy as if it had been unused for so long. Considering how long he was unconscious, Yana could understand why. “Thank you, for all you’ve done. I am indebted to you.”

 

Yana offered him a smile; he remembered what she told him, the first time they shared a dream.

 

“I will fetch you some food and drink. Is there any particular food that you can’t or won’t eat?” she asked him. Her own Clansfolk had various dietary restrictions, whether it was food that would cause them rashes or hard of breathing, to food that they refused to eat for whatever reason. She herself could not stomach a certain type of root that was usually used for seasoning.

 

Solas was quiet for a bit before finally answering, “No tea, please.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Yana climbed out of the healing aravel in search for food. It was not meal time, but there was still leftovers on the food preparation area. Some of the hunters milled about, looking exhausted and dirty after a long night hunt.

 

“Late breakfast?” Adri asked when his eyes caught a sight of her.

 

“For my patient, yes”, Yana replied, and comprehension flitted in his eyes.

 

“He is finally awake? Took him, how many days now?” Adri said, before chugging down his broth. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and Yana wrinkled her nose in disgust. He gave her a teasing grin.

 

“Five days”, Yana said. “He is still very weak, so I doubt he will be back on his feet soon.”

 

“Only you, Yana”, Adri chuckled, shaking his head. “The guy’s at death’s door and you dragged him back to the land of the living.”

 

Yana blinked several times at him, before she gave him a bright smile. “I try.”

 

When she returned to the aravel, Solas was sitting by the window, his fingers toying at the pendant hanging from his neck—it was the same one as the one he wore in the dream, Yana noticed. He wore a simple woolen shirt, one that was free of bloodstains.

 

“Food’s here”, Yana called as she gently set the meals on the floor. 

 

She brought a mug of halla milk and a bowl of porridge with pulled nug meat and lightly herbed soup. They were easy on the stomach, which he would definitely need. Solas turned with a grateful smile before he wolfed down the food. Yana couldn't blame him; healing took a lot of energy, and he had been unconscious for so long.

 

Once the food was gone, she went back to heal him. That was when she found that one of his ribs was cracked, perhaps from the templar's smite. Yana didn’t understand how she managed to miss it after several days. It didn’t seem to bother him, though, and Yana said nothing as she worked to knit back the damaged bone.

 

“Oh”, Solas said, suddenly.

 

“I’m sorry. Did that hurt?” Yana asked. “I should have asked you before I healed it.”

 

“No, no. It was…” Solas paused. “ _ That _ was what had been bothering me, and I did not even notice until you healed it. Thank you.”

 

“Not a problem”, Yana said with a smile.

 

— 

 

She wrapped up the healing session when the sun was high above their heads. Just in time; not long after, people began to trickle into the healing aravel with minor injuries such as small burns and scrapes. One of the foragers twisted her ankle when he fell down the ravine and one of the cooks burned themself when starting the lunch. Yana fixed both of them up with a simple healing spells and ice packs.

 

But more and more people came in, and Yana was beginning to tire herself out for casting too many spells in quick succession. Her mana was severely depleted, and she needed to take a break—but she  _ couldn’t _ .

 

“May I?” Solas said all of a sudden, when Yana wiped sweat off her brows for the umpteenth time.

 

Yana stared at Solas, eyebrows lifting as she regarded him.

 

Solas tilted his head. “I thought I could help. I am… quite proficient with healing spells”, he said.

 

That was a good argument, and she  _ did _ desperately need to take a break. But Solas was still recovering from his own injury, and she wouldn’t have him tire himself out when he was supposed to be healing.

 

“Just focus on your own healing”, Yana eventually replied, smiling at him.

 

He relented, although Yana could see how much he really wanted to help.  _ Huh. _

 

It was later in the day when Ithivhen came bringing his brother, Idril.

 

“Yana, you have to help him. He— he’s having coughing fits, I don’t know what to do”, Ithivhen said, worry clear in his voice. But then his eyes shifted to where Solas was sitting. “Oh, you’re awake. I didn’t know you’re awake. Yana had been worried—”

 

“Ithivhen. Focus”, Yana snapped her finger in front of the younger man’s eyes. “When did the coughs start happening?”

 

“J-just now”, Ithivhen answered. His eyes occasionally glanced at Solas, but he said nothing else.

 

Yana cast a spell to examine Idril’s chest. The little boy was breathing noisily, like his lungs had been filled with sawdust. Yana had seen this before— when the air was cold and the weather was foul, some of her Clansfolk would have difficulty breathing, like they had invisible ropes binding their chest. But it hadn't been cold lately—quite the opposite, in fact. Summer had arrived, carrying hot air with it.

 

Yana tapped her chin several times, before trying to cast a heating spell on his chest.

 

“Tha’ feels good”, Idril rasped out.

 

“It is, isn’t it?” Yana asked with a smile. “I’ll make you some cough potions to ease your breathing. Whenever you need it, you come to me, all right?”

 

“Al’right”, Idril nodded in agreement.

 

Without further ado, Yana left the healing aravel, carrying a basket full of ginger, elfroot, and garlic. She found an empty fire pit and placed a cauldron on top of it, before adding the ingredients one by one. The potion took a little while to brew, and once she was done, she poured it into several flasks.

 

“Here’s the potion”, Yana handed one of the flasks to Idril. The little boy scrunched up his face, but he downed the entirety of it in one single gulp.

 

What a brave kid.

 

“Well done!” Yana praised him.

 

Idril gave her a toothy smile, before leaving the healing aravel with his brother.

 

— 

 

The sun was dipping beyond the treeline, when Keeper Deshanna called for a meeting.

 

Meetings were not uncommon for the Clan; usually it happened when the Keeper felt the need to address something to the whole Clan. However, for one to happen so soon after the last one was unheard for. Last time it was when Keeper Deshanna ordered the hunters to take down the templars, which occurred a week ago.

 

Most of the Clan attended, taking their place around the fire; only children, their caretakers, and people who were otherwise not currently present were missing from the meeting. Oh, and Solas, for obvious reasons.

 

Yana sat just outside of the healing aravel, after making sure that her patient would not die without her presence—Solas had reassured her that he would be alright for a few hours, and Yana trusted him to tell her if that changed.

 

They waited until Keeper Deshanna made a gesture that commanded attention. Immediately, everyone fell into a tense silence. Anticipation was thick in the air, like a tightrope waiting to snap.

 

“Tomorrow, we will be on the move once again”, Keeper Deshanna announced.

 

The effect was almost immediate; everyone who attended murmured to each other. The move was only logical, Yana supposed. The death of the templars would only bring more of them into the woods. Though game was still abundant where they stayed, the presence of more templars would endanger the Clan like no other. The templars  _ would _ retaliate.

 

Before that could happen, the Clan had to be on the move again.

 

Yana listened with half an ear as the others began to discuss about the move, about the logistics and the technicalities. The hunters and foragers would need to stock up tonight, gathering as much as they could in case game was rare where they set up camp. 

 

She almost missed when Keeper Deshanna asked her about… something about her patient? She turned her head slightly to the healing aravel, where Solas was inside, no doubt listening to the whole thing, before turning her attention back to the Keeper.

 

“He is still weak. I fear that he may be in danger if we leave him to his own device”, she replied after a moment.

 

“He is not some little bird you can keep after you healed his wings, Kalyana”, Keeper Deshanna said with a sigh.

 

“I know that. That is why I will ask him about what he wants to do next”, Yana returned.

 

“You’re giving him freedom to choose?” Keeper Deshanna asked. 

 

“What if he chooses to stay, then, so he can mooch off from our resources?” one of the hunters added, and Yana felt her jaw tighten at the accusation. She might not know much about Solas, but she knew that he was honest and polite.

 

“Then make him work”, Yana argued. “He is a mage. Hahren, you know how badly we need a Second. Not to mention that he expressed interest to help me heal people.”

 

“He did?” Keeper Deshanna asked, incredulous. “Well… I suppose this is all hypothetical if he wishes to leave instead.”

 

“I'll go ask him.”

 

With that, Yana left the meeting. She made a quick detour to grab some food—roasted ram ribs with potatoes, and halla milk—before climbing up the aravel. Solas was lying down on the bedroll, but he made a move to sit upon seeing her.

 

“Please, don’t get up for my sake”, Yana reassured him, and he fell back to the bedroll. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Same as one hour ago”, Solas replied with a small smile, before his expression turned serious. “I heard what you said, what the Keeper said.”

 

Well… it wasn’t like they were trying to keep it a secret from him. Yana took a seat by his bedroll and settled the food she carried on the floor, before folding her hands over her knees. “And what is your decision?”

 

“Believe me this, I would hate to impose on you or your Clan”, Solas answered, his lips twisted in distaste, as if admitting such thing was unheard of him. He opened his palm and a small fireball flickered into existence, before flickering out again. “However, my magic… it is still very weak. If there are truly templars in the woods, I doubt I would get far before they catch me again.”

 

Yana couldn’t claim that she knew the life of a wandering apostate, but she knew a thing or two about showing her weakness in front of strangers. What Solas did, it took courage to admit to her, and she appreciated it.

 

“Healing takes time, Solas”, Yana tried to reassure him. “You  _ did _ get stabbed through your stomach. I’d be surprised and probably a little bit terrified if you don’t feel weak after what you’ve been through.”

 

The tease fell sideways; Solas was still frowning. Her fingers itched to touch him in reassurance, but she ignored the urge with a shake of her head. “Though I am not the Keeper, I can say with confidence that you impose nothing on us. Especially, not if you are willing to help around.”

 

“You saved my life”, Solas said, tilting his head slightly. “I am… indebted to you.”

 

Yana didn’t quite know how to answer to that. However, she was spared from answering when Solas continued.

 

“Very well, then. I will stay, at least until my debt is paid”, he said.

 

This time, Yana felt her own lips twist in distaste. The idea that someone was bound to her was… unsettling.

 

“You are free to go anytime, you know that, right?” she eventually said. “I did not help you so you are bound to me like some kind of… of a  _ slave _ .”

 

“I know”, Solas said, and somewhat that was very reassuring.


	4. Chapter 4

The day of the move had always been hectic.

 

Clan Lavellan was not one of the biggest clans, but they were also not one of the smallest either. They had roughly seventy people amongst them, not all of them were able-bodied. They had enough of the disabled, children, and elderlies to make the move rather challenging, but they managed. They always did.

 

Yana was helping her Clansfolk pack; since her belongings were mostly already been stored in her healing aravel, she offered a pair of extra hands to those who needed them the most—mostly elderlies who had no children of their own, and disabled folks. 

 

That was when she noticed Solas wandering outside the healing aravel. This was the first time he stepped out of the aravel, since she brought him to the Clan, and he looked almost vulnerable, non-threatening. She wondered if it was deliberate on his part, before discarding the idea.

 

All of her Clansfolk, including her, wore cowl to cover their head and protect them from the weather, so Solas’ bare head stuck out. Quickly, he gained attention of the Clansfolk around them, and Yana abandoned her task to approach him.

 

“Is there something I can help with?” he asked, polite as ever, and her Clansfolk was all too happy to point him to the right direction.

 

Solas’ presence was a blessing in disguise, that as much was clear. Despite her Clansfolk’s wariness of him, he was helpful and polite. He helped an elderly couple to pack their belongings, and later a single father whose wife had died several years ago. All without magic.

 

Yana was impressed, but also worried for him.

 

He attracted curious children, too; who flocked over him like bees to sugared water. They trailed behind him, asking a million questions a minute, like his lack of hair or vallaslin. Thankfully, he was spared from answering any of their intrusive questions, when their caretakers shooed them back into the aravels. Nevertheless, Solas didn’t seem to mind with the distraction.

 

Yana knew that everyone involved had been grateful with the extra pair of hands he offered; no doubt it would make his standing with the Clan a lot better. 

 

That was until he keeled over from the exertion. 

 

Yana was on the other side of the camp, when a frantic mother pulled her towards him. He sat on a tree stump, his hand clenching over his still-healing abdomen and his face twisting into a grimace. 

 

“I am… quite alright”, Solas said through gritted teeth, though Yana knew how far from truth it was.

 

“You overexerted yourself”, Yana said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Without further ado, she hauled him across her shoulders and carried him to the healing aravel, despite his protests.

 

Somehow, he had managed to reopen his wound though not by much. Blood seeped through the bandage she put around his torso, and Yana  _ tutted _ at him. He should have known better than overexerting himself when he was still healing. 

 

She ended up having to heal him again. She gave him a piece of cloth to bite on, so he wouldn’t bite his own tongue while she worked to stitch back the wound as he was awake through the whole thing, unlike the first time when she first healed him. From her own experience, she knew how unpleasant that felt.

 

Once she made sure he would be alright, Yana returned to help with packing things. They hadn’t been staying long on this part of the forest, but things seemed to scatter all around the camp. By the time the sun was high above their head, everything was done and packed, and the hallas were ready by their harnesses. The Clan would begin to move as soon as Keeper Deshanna made sure that the path was safe to travel. 

 

Yana returned to the healing aravel, only to find that several children had formed a ring around Solas.

“He is good with the little ones”, Lirien told her.

 

Yana lifted her eyebrows, before turning her attention to him.

 

He was telling a story about his travel, about some long-forgotten ruins of their People, so deep in the forest that no one dared to traipse. He was telling a story about the memory he saw there, his pale eyes almost sparkling with joy, and Yana listened intently to his lilting voice as he wove a tale of a battle fought between their People and the shemlens.

 

And by the Creators, he had such a nice voice.

 

The children were so enraptured by his description of the forgotten past; some even had their mouth hanging open. 

 

“What happens next?” Aisa, one of the girls, asked, urging, her eyes wide and bright. 

 

“No one knew what happened to the shemlens. They disappeared into the ruins without a trace”, Solas answered dramatically. “Some say, their remnants are still lurking within the ruins, prowling, desperate to get out. And they became unwilling guards of the ruins, killing everything and everyone who dared to traipse.”

 

Silence fell as Solas ended his story, before Idril let out an awkward laugh.

 

“That’s scary”, the little boy said. “I like it.”

 

“Tell us another story, Solas!” another girl demanded.

 

“Yes, tell us more!”

 

Yana covered her mouth with her hand as the children clamored for more stories. When one of them tried to climb up him, something like pain flared across Solas’ face, though it was quickly masked by an expression of fond exasperation.

 

“Alright, no more stories”, Yana decided, clapping her hands, and the children made protesting noises. “We’re about to move soon, and besides, Solas needs his rest.”

 

As if on cue, the aravel shook with a creaking noise, before it began to move. The group of children dispersed, moving from the healing aravel to other aravels, leaving Solas with a few of the disabled Clansfolk. Solas’ expression shifted into something akin to gratitude as he lay down on the bedroll.

 

“So, it seems you gained your own following, huh?” Yana teased as she knelt next to him, and Solas  _ chuckle-snorted _ .

 

_ How adorable _ , Yana thought.

 

“I have to admit, I was not expecting the children of your Clan to be more accepting of me than the adults of your Clan”, he said. “I have been alone for so long, I forgot how inquisitive they can be.”

 

“More inquisitive than me?” she teased, and he blinked, the tips of his ears reddening. Yana decided to spare him  the embarrassment, and asked, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Exhausted”, Solas replied. “I have to admit, I am not used to being this weak. And before you say anything, yes, I know that healing takes time.”

 

“You should try our gingered halla milk, then”, Yana said, as she began to cast her spells. “It’s rather energizing. Especially if you add raw egg and honey.”

 

Solas made a face, and Yana chortled. “Yes, not the most appetizing combination, I know. It is a rather… acquired taste, I was told. But it works like a charm.”

 

“Very well, then. I will try the… concoction”, Solas said, even though it looked like he would rather eat hot coal instead of trying one of the Clan’s most unique (and rather questionable) beverages.

 

— 

 

There were always more people coming to the healing aravel than usual during the move.

 

Accidents happened quite often when the aravels were on the move, from simpler one such as sunburns, to potentially deadly ones like heatstroke and exhaustion. Last year, a child fell from a moving aravel, causing a permanent damage to the child’s head. The Clan took care of him until he passed away in his sleep, not long after.

 

This time, Yana hoped nothing bad would happen, though she did also prepare for the worse. Her healing potions were fully stocked, and so were her sunburn potions and cooling potions.

 

Heatstroke was a danger during summertime, and the move only made it worse. Children and elders were the most vulnerable to it, and there was nothing else Yana could do to minimize the risk, beyond suggesting them to wear cowls to protect themselves from the harsh sunlight.

 

When the first elder came to the healing aravel with sunburn and heatstroke, Yana quickly worked to lower his body temperature. Cloths dipped in cold water seemed to help, and so did frozen halla milk. As for the sunburn, it was thankfully nothing that her healing ointment couldn’t handle.

 

Another came from exhaustion a few minutes later, a child this time, and Yana carefully settled his small body on one of the unoccupied bedrolls, before asking someone to fetch her gingered halla milk. The child drank it greedily, before Yana cast a sleeping spell on him, allowing him to rest fully while he recuperated.

 

As the day stretched on, more and more people came into the healing aravel from heatstroke and exhaustion, mostly elders and children. Yana was busier than ever and on top of that, she had to keep a cooling charm around the healing aravel to prevent her patients from collapsing further.

 

She hated casting cooling charm on such large object. Ice magic didn’t come easily to her, unlike fire magic and healing magic, and it always depleted her mana unlike nothing else. 

 

When she returned to Solas’ side, two hours had passed and the apostate was already deep in sleep. Yana cast the same cooling charm on him to prevent him from getting sunburn, wondering if he was dreaming in the Fade. She shook her head, before setting to work on her healing potions.

 

She set a basket full of elfroot next to her while she worked to remove the leaves from their stalks, her hands moving mechanically as she fell into the rhythm, her mind wandering. 

 

At times like this, Yana wished that her Clan had another mage, one that could help her whenever her mana was so depleted. Like always, she thought back about her mother, Ilyana Lavellan. She had been the Keeper’s First, a talented mage who taught Yana nearly everything she knew about magic. 

 

Until she met her end at the end of a templar’s sword.

 

Now, looking at Solas’ sleeping body, she wondered if she could’ve saved her mother, if she was better, more experienced. She saved Solas, but she couldn’t save her mother. She was only fifteen at the time, not old enough to receive her own vallaslin. She was better, now, of course, but she couldn’t help but wonder… 

 

Something fell to the back of her hand, and Yana realized that it was her tears. She was crying… but why? She wasn’t sad, she had let the pain from her mother’s death go. She had to, to receive her vallaslin, to receive the duty as the First of the Keeper. Why was she crying?

 

“Yana…?” a voice came from her left. It was Lirien. Her friend scooted closer towards her, placing her hand gently to Yana’s shoulder.

 

“I’m fine. I just—”, Yana choked back a sob, before clearing her throat. “I was thinking about my mother.”

 

“Oh, Yana”, Lirien cooed, and she looped her arms around Yana’s shoulders. She knew what happened to Ilyana; they were childhood friends, they grew up together. “Do you want to talk about it? About anything at all?”

 

“I’m just wondering… When I saw Solas—” Yana paused herself, shaking her head and wiping tears from her eyes. “If I was better, do you think I could’ve saved my mother?”

 

Something like understanding crossed Lirien’s face. “That’s why you worked really hard to save him, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes? No? I- I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about that, when I first healed him. But now…” Yana sighed. “I know it was stupid, but I wish I could’ve healed her. Saved her life. Then we wouldn’t be lacking mages.”

 

“Well, we did get another one”, Lirien chuckled, nudging her shoulders and tilting her head to Solas’ direction.

 

Yes, they had, in a way, hadn’t they?

 

But would Solas stay? Maybe he would—after all, he said that he was indebted to her, didn’t he? What if she made him stay—

 

_ He is not some little bird you can keep after you healed his wings, Kalyana _ , Keeper Deshanna’s voice entered her mind, warned her.

 

Creators, what was she even thinking?

 

“I don’t know if that’s wise”, Yana said, before leveling a glare to Lirien’s direction. “This stays between us.”

 

“My mouth is sealed”, Lirien made a motion like sewing her own lips shut.


	5. Chapter 5

When the sun set, the Clan stopped and set up camp.

 

While a group of scouts went ahead to make sure that their route was safe to travel, another group stayed behind to make sure their Clan was well-protected. At night, the valley was full of danger, and every able-bodied adult in the Clan would make sure that their most vulnerable members were safe.

 

Hunters and foragers went out in the darkness, searching for food to replenish their supplies. The darkness did not bother them and they would return once the dawn broke. Halla tenders made sure that their hallas were well-rested, as they were vital to the Clan’s movement. Some adults wandered out in search of water. Meanwhile, children climbed down the aravels to climb the trees or play around the camp, and their caretakers watched over them like lioness would watch over their cubs.

 

Men and women, able-bodied or not, prepared food for everyone. Meat was cooked over the fire or preserved into jerky. On another firepit, rich herbed soup was left to boil for an easy dinner. Gingered halla milk and fermented fruity beverages were served liberally to warm everyone up, even though the air was already warm.

 

Yana was resting by one of the fire pits, surrounded by her friends. They were chatting about inconsequential things that happened during the move. Apparently, one of the men was riding his hart drunk, which nearly ended with a broken neck or three. Thankfully, it was stopped before anyone could get injured. Since she was mostly confined to the healing aravel, Yana listened to her friends gossiping with great delight.

 

That was when she noticed Solas approaching. He was wearing a simple tunic and, surprisingly, a cowl. His movement was stiff, as if he was in pain. Yana rushed to help him sit on the log by the fire.

 

“Thank you for your assistance”, Solas said, with a small incline of his head. 

 

“Not a problem”, Yana returned with a smile. “Solas, these are my friends. You’ve met Lirien earlier at the healing aravel. Luthien is on your left, and the other two are Isenna and Ithivhen.”

 

“Finally introducing us to your new little bird, eh?” Isenna teased, causing Yana to roll her eyes.

 

“Little bird?” Solas asked, ears perking up in curiosity.

 

“Kalyana here always brings back injured animals, mostly birds. When she brought back an injured wolf last spring, our Keeper Deshanna told us that it was only a matter of time until she brought back an elf!” Lirien explained with a laughter. “‘ _ Just you see _ ’, she said. And well, look what she brought!” she ended with gesturing wildly at Solas’ direction.

 

“I am a healer, and it is my sacred duty to heal people”, Yana returned almost too sweetly.

 

“Yet most would not take their duty to such degree”, Solas said, eyeing Yana’s friends before focusing back to her. “Although, I am eternally grateful that you did. I would’ve died if you did not.”

 

Yana didn’t know how he managed to do both chastising her friends and praising her. She was too busy trying not to preen in vindication, while her friends looked positively embarrassed. Except for Lirien, who gave Yana an undecipherable look.

 

“Do you want me to fetch you some food? Or drink, perhaps?” Yana asked instead, ignoring Lirien.

 

“You never asked if we want food!” Isenna protested, even though a bowl was already in her hands.

 

“You are not injured”, Yana replied coolly, before turning back to Solas. “Well?”

 

“Food would be great, if it’s not too troubling”, Solas answered, polite as always.

 

“Of course it troubles me none”, Yana said with a smile, before she skipped her way to the food preparation area, her steps light as a feather.

 

She brought him roasted nug meat with chopped elfroot stalk, a roll of bread, and cold halla milk. Solas’ eyes were petrified at the mug she was carrying, and she wondered why until she remembered their earlier conversation. 

 

“It is fresh milk”, she reassured him, and he relinquished the mug gratefully before taking a long sip from it.

 

“So, an apostate, huh?” Ithivhen asked with a lift of his eyebrows.

 

“Technically, Keeper Deshanna and I are also apostates”, Yana interrupted.

 

“You know what I mean”, Ithivhen waved his hand, before fixating his attention back to Solas. “You’re not Dalish, right? City elf? No, that’s not right either. What is your story, exactly?”

 

“I am simply a wandering apostate”, Solas replied calmly. “I journeyed through ruins and ancient battlefields, and dreamt about long forgotten past and civilizations.”

 

“You’re also a Dreamer?” Isenna asked. “And here I thought Kalyana was the only one.”

 

“It is an incredibly rare talent”, Solas said. “Rarely seen in this age.”

 

“Wait, does that mean you sleep on ancient ruins and battlefields?” Lirien asked, incredulous. “That sounds…”

 

“Dangerous?” Yana suggested.

 

“Insane”, Ithivhen added.

 

Solas’ lips tightening into a thin line. “I do set up wards”, he said. “And it is no less dangerous than sleeping out in the open, where a rain of arrows from silent attackers could obliterate you all. At least I take precautions.”

 

Ithivhen opened his mouth as if trying to argue—and in that split-second, Yana knew things would get downright unpleasant if she let it to happen.

 

“Can you tell us about the Fade?” she interjected quickly. 

 

Solas looked confused by her question, but quickly regained composure. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

 

“I don’t know… Anything particularly interesting?” Yana asked, hoping that would be enough. “When I dream, it’s always… well, boring.”

 

Solas was quiet before eventually answering. “I dreamt at Ostagar. I witnessed the brutality of the darkspawn and the valor of the Fereldan warriors. I saw Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden light the signal fire… and Loghain's infamous betrayal of Cailan's forces.”

 

That was not what Yana expected—she was expecting of more Elven memory from before their time—but it still sounded marvelous all the same. She heard about the story, it would be quite a memory to witness… if it weren’t so bloody.

 

“Do you ever dream something that wasn’t shem history?” Ithivhen interjected before Yana could stop him. Yana turned her head sharply at the younger man, giving him a warning look, but Ithivhen was undeterred. “The Dalish are trying to restore Elven history. It would be helpful if the two Dreamers we have share their Fade-knowledge to the Clan!”

 

“Ithivhen!” Yana warned.

 

“Would your Clan listen to what I had learned in my studies? My travels? Or would you mock the flat-ear and his stories?” Solas snapped, almost too calmly though there was a shake in his voice that indicated anger. 

 

“Maybe we’ll listen to your stories if it’s not so outrageously stupid”, Ithivhen countered, and Yana didn’t understand why he was acting this way.

 

“While you prattle about restoring Elven history, I have walked the memories of the Fade. I have seen the history you Dalish folks imitate”, Solas said, before he set aside his half-uneaten food and stood up. “My apologies. I should be resting again. Thank you for the food.”

 

With that, he strode away from the group. Yana turned to Ithivhen, her brows furrowing in anger.

 

“I am very,  _ very _ disappointed on you”, she said. “Go take laps around the camp and go back once you realize what you have done wrong. If anyone asks, go tell them what you told to our guest.”

 

“You cannot treat me like a child!” Ithivhen protested, his face reddening in anger and embarrassment both.  _ Good _ , Yana thought vehemently.

 

“I will treat you like a child if you continue to act like one!” Yana hissed. “Now excuse me, I need to check up on my patient.”

 

With that, she too stormed off.

 

—

 

Yana found Solas at the edge of the camp, where a Fen’Harel statue sat by a fire pit. Offerings of flowers and pieces of cheese were placed on its feet, as well as three sticks of incense. Solas was staring at the statue with indescribable expression on his face, his shoulders squared and his hands linked behind his back.

 

“I thought Fen’Harel statues are not allowed inside Dalish encampments”, he said after a long stretch of silence, without even turning to face her. There was something in his voice that Yana couldn’t quite put her fingers on.

 

“We use it to drive away demons”, Yana returned with a small shrug.

 

“Does it ever work?” Solas asked, lifting his eyes to meet with hers.

 

Yana never thought of it, to be honest. The statue had always been a silent guardian of her Clan, sitting just slightly beyond the camp, just like the statues of other Creators lying all over the camp. It had always been there as far as she could remember.

 

Except for one occasion.

 

“Twelve years ago, our Fen’Harel statue broke after falling out of the aravel due to poor handling. Keeper Deshanna and my mother, who was the First at the time, were plagued by demons in their sleep, until my father carved another statue”, Yana explained. “We never had any incident ever since. So yes, I think it works.”

 

Solas hummed, but said nothing else. 

 

Yana sat down on the top of a rock and threw kindling into the fire. The fire cast shadow on Solas’ sharp features; he looked cold like this, unapproachable and distant. Yana shuffled slightly on her seat, not knowing how to break the awkward silence hanging between them. It occurred to her how little she knew of him.

 

“Are you going to lecture me about snapping to your friend?” Solas said all of a sudden. The vehemence in his voice made Yana blink. She was going to say ‘ _ not exactly _ ’, but thought the better of it. 

 

“Actually, I wanted to make sure if you are sufficiently dressed for a night stroll”, she said instead.

 

That made Solas blink in turn. “You are a  _ very good _ liar.”

 

“Not good enough for you, apparently”, Yana said, trying not to blush. This was the first time in awhile someone caught on her lie. “I am sorry for what Ithivhen said. That was unkind of him.”

 

“Do not apologize for what others did that you did not”, Solas said, chiding. “Especially not if the person in question is not sorry.”

 

Yana nodded, but said nothing else. She didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make things worse, so she kept quiet.

 

“Unfortunately, Ithivhen’s act proves every negative stereotype I have of the Dalish”, Solas said as he waved his hand. The fire burned higher and brighter, its color turning from orange to bluish-green.  _ Veilfire _ , Yana thought. She’d never seen veilfire before.

 

“What do you have against the Dalish?” she asked, honestly curious. It was rare to hear opinions about her people from outside perspective that was not marred by prejudice, and Solas’ position was rather… unique.

 

“They are but children, acting out stories they’ve repeated a thousand times”, Solas said. Yana was expecting bitterness in his voice, but there was also… sadness? “While they pass on stories, mangling details, I walked the Fade. I have seen things they have not.”

 

“That sounds…” Yana breathed out.

 

“Insane?” Solas finished for her, repeating back what Ithivhen had said.

 

“Impressive”, Yana corrected. “I know that you showed me some memories already, and I really appreciate it. But I would like to know more, if you are willing to share.”

 

Solas looked taken aback—genuinely looked taken aback by her words, and she wondered if she had said something wrong.

 

“And I would share it with you, if you are willing to listen”, Solas said after a long stretch of silence, his face soft and the tension gone from his shoulders. “What would you like to know?”

 

“Hmmm…” Yana hummed, tapping her chin. “What about the elves from before our time? You showed me the memories about the People before the fall of Arlathan. What were they like?”

 

Solas smiled, before telling her the story.


End file.
